


Dibs

by Oparu



Category: Doctor Who 2005, Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working on a Praxian dig with the enigmatic (and infuriating) Professor River Song, Helen and Kate discuss the nature of courting rights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dibs

"What kind of archaeologist carries a forty-five?" Kate drops her jacket on the desk instead of hanging it up.

Helen eyes the offended heap of leather until Kate lifts it to hook on the wall. "Perhaps she likes to be prepared."

"Prepared is a Glock, maybe a nice Sig, not a Desert Eagle or some kind of ray gun."

"Envious?"

Kate drops into her chair, boots on the desk. The chair creaks.

"If your boots are on my acquisition forms--"

The shuffling noise is Kate moving the papers, not her feet. Helen lowers an eyebrow, frowning slightly, but lets it go. There are days of this expedition left and she'd be wise to conserve her nerves. Between Henry's war with the ancient comm system, Will's absolute dedication to reconstructing the history of the ancient Vampires-Praxis wars through their carvings, and her own necessary finishing of several years worth of audits for the Cairo Sanctuary, which now had to negotiate with a brand new government, it's been a long few days.

She did not enjoy calling for help. Will may be obsessive, but he's not archaeologist. Nikola may be brilliant, but he's disappeared into a burial chamber and only comes out for wine. So she asked for help.

More shuffling, then munching as Kate eats tortilla chips out of the bag. Helen looks over, glare at the ready, but Kate has a tea towel across her chest and she's not touching anything. The Big Guy is getting to her, a bit at a time.

"Do you think she'd let Hank have a look at her gun?"

Helen still doesn't turn from her work, head tilted slightly to the side. "Would you allow Henry to 'look' at one of your guns."

"But she doesn't know him."

"She has Gallifreyan DNA markers."

Kate lets silence carry her lack of understanding instead of asking, Helen appreciates her simplicity.

She puts down her pen and swivels in her chair. Kate deserves a full explanation and Helen's never failed to make use of an opportunity for learning. "A full-blooded Gallifreyan, Dominicus Temporis is functionally immortal due to their ability to regenerate. When seriously hurt, they renew every cell in their body at once, becoming a new version of themselves, someone with a different personality, different appearance, occasionally even a different gender."

"Kinky." Kate waves at her with a chip. "And useful to hide from people."

"Gallifreyans have two hearts and varying degrees of telepathic ability. They're rumoured to have all but died out, but exposure to their technology during certain parts of feotal development--"

Kate's boots swing to the floor, hitting it hard. "You mean her mom touched something Galli while she was pregnant and she got Galli DNA?"

Helen smiles: Kate's explanation is crude but accurate. "I don't know the exact biography of Doctor Song, but yes, something like that. Gallifreyans also have a rare and extraordinary sense of time. They can live their lives entirely non-linearally, jumping from place to place. They have near-perfect memories, speak any language and can occasionally have a sense of the future that borders on precognition."

"Is that why she kept knowing where the rocks were going to fall from the ceiling?"

"I think that's more a sound background in geology."

"Does she have two hearts?"

"I haven't had the chance to examine her."

"Does she speak Latin? Vampire? Praxian?" Kate paused and ate another chip. "Klingon?"

"You could ask Henry to try his Klingon." Helen turned back to her work, finished with the conversation now that it had become foolish.

"Would you like to examine her?"

Helen read down the geological readout of the area, copying over figures from one form to the other. "I always relish an opportunity to increase my knowledge."

Kate's chair squeaks as she slides it across the floor towards Helen. The dust rises a little from the cave floor. "And what kind of knowledge do you think you'll be increasing there boss?"

"My understanding of hereditary Gallifreyan traits--" She stops because Kate is smiling. Kate never smiles about genetics. "What?"

"Right, her genetics. I bet they're spectacular."

"I try not to compare anyone's genes to another's, but yes, I think hers would be one of the more interesting I've seen." She's mistyped a line and frowns at the screen.

"I'm more of a breast girl myself," Kate says, leaning back in her chair, which has a new position right next to Helen's desk. "Though, I keep looking at her hair and wondering just how much it springs back."

Helen accidentally types something about Professor Song's hair into her memorandum line and forcibly pulls her hands from the keyboard. "I beg your pardon?"

Hands up in peace, Kate grins. "Hey, Doc, I'm not infringing on your territory. You got dibs, I get it. I'm just saying she's a very attractive possibly telepathic, two-hearted abnormal, and she's smart. I think you need that or you'd get bored. Also, if she can regenerate, she might even be in your age bracket, if not older. There's something about an older woman, isn't there, Doc?"

She blinks several times and tries to process the ideas Kate has rattled off so quickly one at a time. "Dibs?"

"You like her. I won't say anything and let you make your move."

"You do realise it's entirely impolite to call bagsie on a sentient being."

"Yeah, it's not her, just the right to talk to her." Kate's still grinning.

Helen rests her hands on her desk. "You mean I intend to court her."

"Well you've already been flirting with her. Courting comes next, doesn't it?"

Putting her hands on her temples does not shock her back to reality, as much as she would like it to. "I haven't been--"

"She calls you 'darling'." Kate's still grinning and her mock British accent is far superior to Will's. "People always call you Magnus, or like once Helen."

James did, and John on occasion, but it had more warmth from James. She hasn't told Kate about them in detail, not really, and there's no way Professor Song could know, unless it's those damn Gallifreyan traits. Yes, absolutely, Helen would love to get a look at her DNA and a full body cat scan, maybe a blood panel, but that doesn't mean she's interested.

James and John certainly never addressed her with the kind of irreverence Professor Song delights in. Helen is never 'Helen'. She's known this infuriating woman for six days and she's always calling her some term of endearment. Darling, dearest, honey, cupcake: it's entirely improper but the more Helen flicks her eyes in annoyance, the more it seems to happen. Like Nikola, this woman is intent on getting under her skin.

It's like River knows her, as if they've met before. Helen has an excellent memory and she's very good with faces, and yet, of course, it's impossible. River would have to have more than a few Galifreyan DNA markers to have been at that conference in Berlin, all those years ago.

Kate's staring at her, watching as Helen's mind jumps from idea to idea. Her father's journals mention a several suspected Gallifreyans or possibly the same one, appearing as different versions of himself. She knows they exist. It's been right in front of her.

"Pardon me, Kate, I just remember something I desperately need to ask Professor Song."

Sighing, Kate rolled her chair back to the other desk, returning her feet to the table. "I'll take that as your dibs then."

Helen can almost hear the grief she'll get from Henry and Kate later, but she has to know. She heads down the tunnel, towards the chamber Professor Song is working on today. It's supposedly an ancient repository of Praxian texts, but the last room they thought was important turned out to be a bathroom. Not that they didn't learn a good deal about the kinds of bath products favoured by the Praxians, but it wasn't exactly why they're here.

River is hanging from the ceiling in an ingenious device of Henry's that lets one lay in a small mobile hammock while working on something high. She doesn't roll over as Helen's obvious footsteps approach.

"The Berling Symposium on the historical mentions of abnormalities within ancient Latin American cultures. You wore that delightful blue dress and argued very eloquently, of course, everyone thought you were crazy, didn't they?"

"I was politely rebuffed."

The pulley system squeaks as River rolls over, her curls framing her face. "Don't you just love Victorian manners?"

"You spoke German."

River drops, something that happens so quickly Helen worries for an instant that it's an uncontrolled decent, but River lands smiling. "I speak almost everything, provided I've heard it before."

Much more Gallifreyan than she suspected. Helen's Kurdish is rusty, but it's obscure enough that it should be a challenge. "That must be useful," she says in Kurdish.

"Incredibly so." River detangles herself gracefully and brushes dust from her arm. She pauses for a moment. "Want to try Masri or Estonian or Sanskrit? I do love the sound of Sanskrit. Such a classy tongue."

Helen pulls a rope from River's shoulder. "I'll believe you."

"Thank you darling."

"So you're--"

"Oh, you can't just ask a girl her age now, you were raised better than that."

That leaves River Song a mystery and Helen has always been irresistibly attracted to mysteries, especially when they infuriate her.

"I don't suppose you'll allow me to examine you at some point?"

"Are you asking me to play doctor?"

"I'm asking you to allow me to document your unique genetic structure."

"Well, if you put it that way."

"When we're done here, if you come back with me to the Old City Sanctuary--"

"Oh good, whatever will I wear?"

Helen blinks, staring at River's smile.

"You are going to buy a girl dinner first before you put her DNA under your microscope, aren't you?"

"Dinner?"

"You do eat?"

When was the last time she bothered to go out? "Of course, I'll make the arrangements."

River raises her eyebrows playfully. "I like a table by the window."

Taking her journal from the floor, River starts checking the markings on the wall against her drawings.

Helen watches her for awhile, wondering if Alfredo's will forgive her for all of her underlings abuse in her name. Perhaps River likes Thai. Madame Pramoj hasn't been discovered by Will and Henry yet, which has the added bonus of no one knowing where she is. It's something to look forward to, even if she'll probably spend half the night rolling her eyes.

"I shall return when I've set a date."

"Oh is that what it is? Oh goody."

This woman is as bad as Nikola. Are their carnal desires really all they think about or is it purely the joy of making her frown?

River slips past her, brushing against her body as she retrieves something from the corridor. They touch for a moment, face to face. Helen meets her eyes and instead of looking away, she keeps her gaze steady.

"I do believe it'll be fun, Professor."

"Darling, keep talking like that and I know it will be."


End file.
